


Thunder & Lightning (& Cuddling)

by bencumberwub



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BBC Sherlock - Freeform, Cuddling, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fear, Fluff, Gen, John Watson - Freeform, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Sherlock Holmes - Freeform, Storms, Thunderstorms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2018-01-14 15:01:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1270807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bencumberwub/pseuds/bencumberwub
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is afraid of thunderstorms and John helps out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thunder & Lightning (& Cuddling)

**Author's Note:**

> I felt like I needed to post something since I haven't for awhile. Hope you enjoy. xx

John heard a loud thump over the drizzle of rain and rumbling thunder. He closed his laptop, stood up and stretched and then walked towards Sherlock’s room.

A flash of lightning lit up the kitchen as he maneuvered around the kitchen table that held Sherlock’s latest experiment. His toe rammed into a kitchen chair and he grunted, lifting his foot up as his hand met it halfway. He rubbed his toe, muttering a curse.

As he stood there a loud crash of thunder sounded outside and seconds later was accompanied by another loud thump from Sherlock’s room. John, forgetting about his toe, crept towards Sherlock’s room. He knocked lightly before creaking the door open.

“Sherlock?”

John looked at the bed in the dark room. “Are you alright in here? I heard a couple of loud thumps.” A flash of lightning, barely lighting up the room, helped John see a bit. Sherlock’s curtains were drawn shut tightly (which explained while the flash of lightning didn’t light up the room) and his bed was empty. John frowned and walked around to the other side of the bed, finding Sherlock on the floor.

“What are you doing down there?”

John could almost hear the eye roll. “I decided to sit on the floor for the night, John. Obviously I fell out of my bed.”

John snorted as Sherlock stood up. Sherlock wrapped his sheet tighter around himself and climbed back into his bed. As he was getting under the sheets another boom resounded and Sherlock quickly lifted the sheets up and over his head, jerking a bit too fast and causing his head to hit the headboard. Sherlock groaned.

John frowned at Sherlock. Was the great Sherlock Holmes afraid of storms? The man who would risk his life to prove how much of a genius he was? The man who would run straight into danger with no second thoughts?

John walked around to the other side of the bed and climbed on top of the sheets. He put his hands behind his head and crossed his legs at his ankles.

“What are you doing, John?”

“Just thought I’d stay here for a bit.”

Sherlock peaked out from underneath his sheets and squinted at him.

John looked over at Sherlock. He looked so young with the bed sheets pulled up to his chin. “You’re afraid of storms.”

Sherlock nodded, not even trying to deny it. John turned over onto his side, facing Sherlock. He realized Sherlock was trembling with his eyes shut. Shuffling about, he lifted up the sheets and got underneath, scooting a bit closer to Sherlock.

“You know what my mum used to tell me about the thunder and lightning?”

Sherlock didn’t respond in any way, just kept his eyes tightly shut and blankets up to his chin.

“Thunder is God bowling apparently. And every time there’s lightning it means he bowled a strike. He must be a very good bowler, huh?”

Silence except for the drizzle of rain.

“Harry always said God was taking pictures of me and the flash was the flash of the camera. That always creeped me out so I usually went with mum’s theory.”

“Is this supposed to comfort me?” Sherlock asked, barely above a whisper.

John shrugged. “Maybe.”

Sherlock jerked. He opened his mouth and then closed it again. It was a couple minutes before he spoke. “Aren’t you afraid of storms? Especially the thunder, doesn’t it remind you of the war?”

John hummed. “Usually when I’m asleep and it’s storming the thunder weaves into my dreams and that can be terrifying because it sounds like the bombs are right there, but it’s just thunder. It doesn’t bother me much when I’m awake. It did at first, when I first came back to civilization.”

John felt Sherlock’s body heat as he scooted closer to John.

“Stay with me tonight?”

John felt Sherlock’s hand touch his chest. John knew what he was looking for, he moved his hand to hold on to Sherlock’s and scooted as close to Sherlock as he could get. With Sherlock’s hand in his, he pressed their entwined hands against his chest.

“I’ll stay.”

Sherlock pushed his foot between John’s legs and threaded his leg through and the other on top of John’s other leg. He lowered his head and placed it under John’s chin and took a deep breath.

John kissed the top of Sherlock’s head and rubbed his thumb across the back of Sherlock’s thumb.

Sherlock clenched his hand tighter around John’s. “Thank you.”

* * *

 

John woke up the next morning with a head on his chest and hair tickling him under his chin. John moved to roll over but the body around him groaned and clutched on tighter to him. John opened his eyes and looked down seeing the mass of black curls and the slender frame wrapped around him.

John felt his hand still holding on to Sherlock’s and Sherlock’s other arm lying across his torso, hand clutching to his other arm. Their legs were still crisscrossed between each other from how they fell asleep the night before.

John went to sit up but once again was clutched tighter. “Stop moving.”

John felt the rumble of Sherlock’s voice against his stomach. “I need to use the loo.”

“Hold it.”

John sighed and worked his arm out of Sherlock’s grip to run his hand over his face and through his hair. He was surprised at how much Sherlock seemed to enjoying the cuddling that was going on. John couldn't say he wasn't enjoying it either. 

Sherlock nuzzled into John and yawned. Slowly he opened his eyes and looked up at John who was looking back down at him with a small smile on his face. “What are you smiling about?”

John laughed. “You look..” John searched for the right word and couldn't land upon one that probably wouldn't offend Sherlock. “Cute.”

“I look cute?”

“Yes, quite. You look cute, adorable, and warm.”

“How can a person look warm? And me? Cute? John, I am the last thing on earth to be cute. Please, never call me cute again.”

John smiled and ran his hand through Sherlock’s curls. “But I can call you adorable?”

“No. Although, if you _had_ to use one of the two to describe me, I would prefer adorable.”

“Hmm, the great Sherlock Holmes. The adorable Sherlock Holmes.”

Sherlock glared at John.  John smiled and pushed at Sherlock. “I really need to use the loo.”

Sherlock rolled off of John and stretched out, reminding John of a cat.

John got up and headed to the bathroom.

“John?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for staying with me last night.”

John smiled. “You’re welcome. And for the record, if you ever need me.. I’m here. Always.”


End file.
